


A Bit of Fuss

by sadlikeknives



Category: Benjamin January Mysteries - Barbara Hambly
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:06:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29235021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadlikeknives/pseuds/sadlikeknives
Summary: Rose missed the initial commotion because she was teaching a mathematics lesson at the time.
Relationships: Benjamin January/Rose Vitrac January/Abishag Shaw
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	A Bit of Fuss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [within_a_dream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/within_a_dream/gifts).



Rose missed the initial commotion because she was teaching a mathematics lesson at the time, and only knew anything had happened when she went to check on the children afterward and found them being minded by Gabriel, who was supposed to be getting ready for his shift at the hotel right about then. "Where is your uncle?" she asked him.

"Kentucky Williams came to the door and he grabbed his doctor's bag and took off," he told her, and Rose paused to consider all aspects of that sentence. Some crisis involving Hannibal would have seemed most likely, were Hannibal not at that very moment teaching her students Greek. Otherwise--well, random people appearing at the door at odd moments was not an unusual occurrence when one married a surgeon, but she would have expected Kentucky Williams, were she in need of a surgeon, to find a white one or die of lack of funds.

"I see," she said, even though she really did not, and shooed Gabriel off to get ready so she could spend some time with her own sons before handing them off to Zizi-Marie when she returned from her errands so that she could return to teaching. When she had finished chemistry, she asked Zizi-Marie if her husband had confirmed, and was informed that he had, and had asked her to tell Rose that he would be in the garconniere. 

Rose assumed she did not mean the room currently occupied by Gabriel, but the one next to it, which was really meant for the maid the Januaries currently did not have. Its most usual occupant was Hannibal, when he was too ill to make his way back to his usual abode or on those occasions during the summer when they were able to persuade him to stick around for a while, though in recent months it had been seeing a...different sort of use.

It was perhaps because her thoughts were already trending in that direction that she was not, at first, surprised to see the occupants of the garconniere--not, at least, until her eyes adjusted from the brighter light outside and she registered all of the blood. "What happened?"

"It seems that our Mr. Shaw," Ben said, keeping his voice deliberately light as he continued swabbing blood away from the cut on Shaw's brow, "got on the wrong end of a gang of bravos down in the Swamp."

"That's just Tuesday," Shaw groused, trying ineffectually to bat Ben's hand away. Rose had previously had occasion to observe that Shaw took to being cared for like an alley cat to affection; it came as no surprise that he was worse when he was hurting, possibly in pride as well as body. Aside from Ben fussing over his head, he had some sort of hastily-bound wound on his left arm, and the starting of quite a lot of bruising. "Even if it is usually Tuesday after dark," he allowed.

"It would have been just Tuesday had one of them not managed to land a lucky blow to his head," Ben agreed, "necessitating the assistance of one Mademoiselle Railspike to extract him from the situation."

Rose considered that for a moment. " _Railspike_ rescued a policeman?"

"Apparently she recognized him as a friend of Hannibal's and thus not someone to be left to the mob, and from that Kentucky Williams extrapolated that he must also be a friend of mine, and as I am 'some kind of a doctor or summat,' she came to fetch me. And here we are. I'll need to stitch that wound on his arm, if you could perhaps bring some more candles and the water I set to boil in the kitchen?" Rose nodded, and pushed her glasses back up her nose where the movement caused them to slide down. Logically, the strong afternoon sunlight would have been best for that, but despite the fact that the girls' fathers were all well aware Rose's husband was a surgeon and would sometimes have patients in the house, she was reluctant to expose them to a naked male torso if it were at all possible to avoid it--particularly _this_ male torso, perhaps. "But I'm really more concerned about his head."

"My head is fine," Shaw protested, but it sounded a little weak to Rose's ears.

"He had doubled vision earlier," Ben reported to Rose.

"So a concussion, then."

"I've had worse," Shaw said.

"You have no idea how alarming that is to hear," Ben told him. "He'll need to be looked after for the next several hours to make sure it doesn't get worse. You'll have to stay here overnight, so we can check in regularly," he told Shaw, who opened his mouth to protest again and then closed it and sighed, reluctant, Rose supposed, to argue against something he wanted anyway. It made something in her chest twist.

"He should probably stay in the main house," Rose suggested optimistically.

That, Shaw did manage to muster up a protest for, and she let it drop. They would lure him in eventually, like that alley cat she'd compared him to.

Ben patted Shaw on the knee, and Rose said, "I'll just fetch those candles." A note would have to be sent to the Cabildo informing them of the location and welfare of their wayward policeman, but that could wait. "Just think," she teased Shaw, "you could have me stitching you up instead of Ben." He chuckled at that, by now well aware of Rose's attitude toward and lack of aptitude for needlework. She bent down and kissed him on the cheek. "Let us worry about you."

"I don't see as how I have any choice," Shaw said, but he didn't sound as frustrated by it as he had earlier.

"That's the spirit," Rose told him, and went back out, already mentally assembling a list of what would need to be done, and what she would have to do herself versus what she could delegate to whom. Aside from the candles and the water, a message would need to be taken to the Cabildo informing them of their wayward member's location and condition, but she would consult with Shaw regarding how much she should say before worrying about that. This was hardly ideal, but it certainly could have been much worse. They could manage it.

Life was funny. She had never imagined herself being so worried over the welfare of a Kaintuck policeman, nor so filled with gratitude toward anyone named Railspike.


End file.
